


Life Lessons

by The_Magic_Rat



Series: I Think We’re Alone Now [4]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21530638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Magic_Rat/pseuds/The_Magic_Rat
Summary: Gabriel manages to land himself in trouble again, and Crowley’s not happy about it.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: I Think We’re Alone Now [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660048
Comments: 11
Kudos: 48





	Life Lessons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NumberThirteen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NumberThirteen/gifts).



> Dedicated to Caz Mumin, who gave me a plot bunny.

__**Good Omens – Life Lessons.  
** Author: The Magic Rat  
Rating: PG13  
Pairings: Crowley/Aziraphale  
Warnings: Puns, injury, some angst.  
Word Count: 6,638 

_**Website – Ex Libris: http://www.winter-wood.net/ex-libris/index.html  
Live Journal: http://delaese.livejournal.com/profile** _

_**Disclaimer: All Good Omens characters, places and situations are the property of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, and are used without permission and without intent of plagiarism or profit. Copyright for all stories and original characters is with the author, and may not be published, copied, distributed or archived without the author's prior written consent.** _

_**Summary: Gabriel manages to land himself in trouble again, and Crowley’s not happy about it.** _

_**Author’s notes: Dedicated to Caz Mumin, who gave me a plot bunny.** _

~*~*~*~*~*~

Like Crowley, Gabriel enjoyed driving. Unlike Crowley, he wasn’t actually terribly good at it. While Crowley could at times be careless, when he put his mind to it he could put any stunt driver the world over to shame. 

Gabriel just liked to think he could.

Also, like Crowley, Gabriel favoured vintage cars. But Gabriel didn’t value style and grace; no Gabe just liked them BIG. His car of choice was a 1973 Chevy Impala Custom Coupe. It was a stylish beast, custom painted a metallic silver blue. However at almost a whopping six meters long, it commanded the sort of intimidation factor that Gabriel felt was appropriate to his station in Heaven. It also had a truly enormous and stupidly overpowered engine, which had not been made by Chevrolet. No that baby came personally from some members of a custom car club. It was huge, it was mighty, and, if required, could pretty much outrun anything Gabriel set his mind to. 

Gabriel loved his car. But it was too big, too powerful, and its driver too busy reaching under the huge front seat when he should have been watching the road. And that was when he heard a loud bang and felt a sickening series of jolts. He stopped immediately, eyes huge, staring at the last thing any driver wants to see after bangs and jolts; blood on his hood.

“Oooooohhhhh noooooo....” he said quietly, eyes nearly as large his vehicle. 

First things first – were there any witnesses? A quick scan seemed to indicate no. He got out of the car and went to see what he hit, and felt a rush of utter horror as he recognized an all too familiar lanky form with red hair sprawled out on the pavement in a puddle of blood. Crowley had not even been in the road; Gabriel had been so distracted he’d driven onto the sidewalk, bouncing Crowley off of his hood and throwing him into a brick wall. 

“I am in so much trouble...” the archangel whined. He knelt beside Crowley. “Crowley? Crowley! Are you... no you are very much not all right are you. Why did you do this to me? Do you know how much trouble I’ll be in if anybody finds out?!”

Only one thing to do. Miracle up a cure. But there had been valid reasons why Aziraphale had not done this the previous time Crowley had been injured; he was a demon, and this sort of miracle would backfire spectacularly. Seconds later Crowley not only had a cracked pelvis and a broken clavicle, along with numerous other injuries, he also now had a case of pneumonia so bad he was starting to drown as his lungs filled with fluid. Gabriel squeaked in horror.

“Oh I’m a bad angel.”

Fortunately, Gabriel engaged his brain long enough to remember that there was a ward in Heaven for mortals who were in comas. Since their souls were trapped between life and death, it was a sort of palliative care ward. Those who died were led to their appropriate afterlife. Those who woke up went back to the mortal world. Gabriel took Crowley to the ward and put him in bed in a locked private room, then tore off in search of a medical professional. The first one he saw was Sebastian. Okay – another one, not that one. He needed somebody who knew how to keep his... PERFECT!

Gabriel grabbed up a woman who had been burned as a witch in the 1600s for having too much knowledge of physical ailments and broken bones. Clearly someone in league with the devil. Modesty Fletcher knew how to keep secrets; the problem was some of her patients did not. She said nothing as she was suddenly dragged into a private room and shown her patient.

“Oh,” she said.

“Can you fix him?”

“I can try. But I will need some things.”

“Anything. But you can tell NO ONE about this! Not a soul! Do you understand? I’ll be cleaning septic tanks with a spoon and a toothbrush if this gets out!”

Modesty could have blackmailed Gabriel extensively, but it was not in her nature. She told him what she would need, and set to work. Meanwhile, down on Earth, one angel and about twenty cherubs were beginning to wonder where a certain red-haired demon was.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Gabriel spent every waking second he could with Crowley, terrified he would would die. Or worse – wake up. And what made things even more stressful was knowing that Aziraphale was on the war path. Aziraphale KNEW Crowley had not simply wandered off someplace and forgot to call home. The demon would materialize if his angel so much as hiccuped. Crowley’s whole DNA seemed hardwired to his damned angel, and if Aziraphale couldn’t find him, it was because somebody had him. 

The Guardian of the Eastern Gate was PISSED. And anybody who had once giggled at the plump little bookworm now could not scamper out of his way quickly enough.

Gabriel sat beside Crowley’s bed, not knowing if he hoped the demon lived or died. He was in SOOOOO much trouble, no one would believe that his injuries were the result of a complete accident. Not after all the stalking he’d done...

Crowley shifted, and made a quiet sound. Oh Lord, the hour of retribution was at hand. Crowley coughed, and opened his eyes.

“Angel...?” he said, his voice a strangled whisper.

Of course the first thing he fucking asks for is his angel. Gabriel didn’t know what else to do, so he altered his form to look like Aziraphale.

“I’m right here darling.”

Crowley looked to the figure beside his bed....and Gabriel knew to the depths of his soul that Crowley was not fooled for an instant. He managed to dodge a blast of hellfire, hitting the floor hard. 

“Don’t hurt me!” 

Crowley could barely breathe but he was doing his best to scream, even though it was more like a breathy whistle. “Don’t HURT you?! Don’t hurt YOU?!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Where’s Aziraphale?”

“Now there is no need to get him inv...”

More hellfire. 

“He’s fine, he’s home, look, Crowley, please, this was a complete accident! I didn’t even see you walking on the sidewalk before I ran you over!”

Hellfire wasn’t working so Crowley resorted to other demonic tactics. Gabriel whimpered as he was covered with hot green steaming vomit that did NOT smell like pea soup. As he slowly sat up, the door opened and Modesty bustled in. She paused as she saw the mess. Her immediate reaction was sympathy.

“Oh poor Mr. Crowley, were you sick? That’s all right, you just let me help you...”

Crowley was all candy and cuteness for Miss Modesty. Gabriel used it as a chance to scurry out of the room and miracle himself clean. Then he felt himself go cold with horror as he realized Sebastian and Aziraphale were approaching. Sebastian had his arm around his much smaller friend, who was clearly in tears. 

“We’ll find him,” Sebastian gently assured Aziraphale. “He loves you so much, he’s not run away.”

“I know, and that’s what worries me! Somebody has him!”

“We’ll find him...”

Gabriel braced himself for Aziraphale to somehow magically realize his demon lover was behind the door he just passed, but no. Modesty exited and went on her way, her mind on her patient. Gabriel was just starting to breathe when Michael showed up. 

“You’ve been gone for days, where were you?”

Angels were not great liars. It was not in their nature. So Gabriel went with a sorta-true. 

“Keeping a very close eye on a sick acquaintance. He’s quite ill. I’m very much hoping he survives.”

“That’s a lot of devotion for an acquaintance.”

Gabriel squirmed. “Can you keep a secret?”

Michael already had that look that implied she knew what was coming. “What did you do?”

Gabriel opened the door. Within less than a second he was hit with a wave of green slime. He closed it. Michael’s expression was one of complete horror.

“Do you have any idea what they will do to you when they find out?!”

“I didn’t know what else to do!”

“Well what happened?”

“I accidentally hit him with my car, then tried to use a miracle to make him better and instead gave him severe pneumonia.”

“You SWEAR it was an accident? You were not following him or bothering him in anyway...?”

“Michael I swear to you in any court in Heaven or on Earth that I was not bothering him. I happened to hit something and to my great misfortune it happened to be him.”

Michael nodded. “All right. But you realize that the second you release him that he will scream to Heaven and Hell both that you did this.”

“I know. I need to convince him to keep this a secret.”

“I’ll talk to him.” Michael walked to the door and carefully opened it a mere crack. She could see Crowley staring dead back at her. Oooh this was not going to be a walk in the sunshine.

“Crowley I would like to speak to you.”

Crowley coughed wetly, but didn’t make any hostile moves. Michael cautiously entered the room.

“Now Gabriel did not mean to hurt you. And he would very much like you to keep this little incident a secret.”

Michael didn’t like Crowley, but she could see he was in misery. He coughed wetly, trying to breathe. She could also see he was in a great deal of pain.

“Want....my angel...” he wheezed.

“You will get your angel. But first we would like you to swear you won’t tell anyone where you have been or what happened to you.”

Crowley looked indignant, and coughed. “Why?”

“Well Gabriel would be in an enormous amount of trouble.”

“Fuck him.” Crowley’s enunciation was perfect, even with all his teeth bared. 

“Crowley, please. We need you to not tell what happened.”

Crowley gave Michael a look that positively chilled her, then grinned. Speaking was difficult, but eventually he managed to tell Michael that he wanted Aziraphale’s books restored. Michael agreed, and left him in peace.

“He says he won’t tell if we restore the books that were ruined when we set the demons on him.”

Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief. “Is that all?”

“I’d be very careful,” warned Michael. “He hates the both of us, he may not be inclined to keep that vow. Personally I would have let him die.”

“I thought about it, but was not sure how it would look if the higher-ups found out. And if that stupid little Aziraphale learned the truth...”

“Gabriel, Aziraphale is not stupid. Neither is Crowley.” She pointed at the door, glaring at Gabriel, trying to impress him with what she had to say. “That is a full blown demon in there who hates you on a very personal level for a number of reasons. You need to be careful.”

“Yes, well I can’t be thinking about that right now, I have to...”

“Sandalphon and I will handle your duties for the next little while. This mess is YOUR baby, YOU diaper it. I am not going back to Hell for latrine duty for anyone.”

Michael walked away, leaving Gabriel in the hallway to stink and ooze. He willed himself clean, and went to the door, opening it a crack.

Crowley was staring back at him in the most predatory manner. He was almost ivory coloured, breathing hard, and nailed to the bed by a badly damaged pelvis. 

“I am coming in, and you are going to behave. Is that clear?”

The way Crowley tensed told Gabriel that the demon had no intention of behaving. The archangel cleared his throat. 

“I’ll make you a deal. You don’t do anything to me, and I’ll set about getting you some medication for your lungs, and to stop the pain, okay?”

Crowley coughed. “My angel...”

Gabriel cautiously entered the room. “First things first,” he said. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

By the time Gabriel was done, Crowley was deeply asleep, proper medications administered through IVs and a humidifier to help him breathe more easily. He was feeling rather pleased with himself when Michael returned.

“He wants Aziraphale,” said Gabriel.

“Of course he does, and we’ll fetch the little butterball when his boyfriend no longer looks like he was bounced off the hood of your car. I have bad news.”

Gabriel did not want bad news. “What is it?”

“According to the finest restoration artists Heaven has to offer, demon blood cannot be removed from parchment or vellum or any other sort of paper. Which I suspect Crowley already knew. He’s going to keep setting us tasks he knows we can’t perform.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “So you’re right, he’s actually not dumb.”

“I strongly suggest you keep him heavily sedated.”

“He is for now but we can’t leave him that way forever. If we knowingly cause harm to him while under our care...”

“YOUR care.”

“Why are you so mean?”

“I am not a fan of poo, and lately you seem to be a magnet for it.”

“Look,” said Gabriel, “see if you can at least find somebody who can remove enough of the blood so the message Crowley wrote to Aziraphale is legible. That would please Aziraphale and it may be enough for Crowley.”

Michael nodded. “All right. Just make sure you stay out of sight. We don’t want anyone asking questions you may be very reluctant to answer.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

This was not working out. Crowley was not getting well. His bones were not healing, his pneumonia was not subsiding, even the bruises were just as bad. All he seemed to do was...wait. He was like a dog awaiting the arrival of a dead master. His very existence seemed to have stopped, and while Gabriel may have been a complete ass, he did have some feelings.

“The snake is making me feel bad,” he complained to Michael as the pair stood in the hall outside Crowley’s room.

“Then perhaps you should not have run him over.”

“You are not helping! Look – as much trouble as I am in now, it will be worse if we force him to pine away. I think we need to hand him over to Aziraphale. At least then if he dies I am less likely to get blamed for it.”

Michael crossed her arms. From down the hall could be heard Aziraphale, screaming.

“WHEN I FIND OUT WHO HAS CROWLEY I SHALL FEED THEM THEIR OWN LEGS!”

“All right I see your point, but we have to do something. He’s not getting any better.”

Modesty walked into the room, leaving the door ajar behind her. Crowley perked up slightly as she approached and seated herself on the edge of his bed.

“How are you feeling?”

He shook his head, fighting to breathe. She drew a bottle out of her apron pocket, along with a spoon.

“This is a very powerful expectorant. It will help you cough out some of the... well. You know. Make it easier for you to breathe.”

Crowley allowed her to feed him a spoonful. It had a very odd flavour; one he rather liked. As she checked his bruises, he read the ingredients, trying to place the flavour. He raised an eyebrow. Modesty was right; this was powerful stuff. He’d be hacking and coughing all night. Then he looked to the door as he heard Aziraphale’s name. He could hear Michael and Gabriel speaking to each other. 

“Look the snake isn’t getting any better. I think we should hand him over to his fat lump and let him take over,” said Gabriel.

“And then you will have both of them screaming to the four winds about what you did,” said Michael.

“Then what do I do? He’s just lying there in bed and slowly fading away like some fairy tale princess pining for his true love. And his pudgy little darling is petitioning to have some of the seraphs search for him.”

Modesty departed. Crowley grabbed the bottle of expectorant, removed the lid, and guzzled the contents. Then he waited, seething over the insults directed at his darling. Michael and Gabriel argued over whether to hand Crowley over to his love, then the door opened. The two archangels froze as Crowley stared at them. Then Gabriel pointed a finger at the demon.

“You are NOT to vomit on me any more! Is that clear?”

Crowley grinned. Michael dove for cover just in time to avoid something significantly worse than vomit. Gabriel’s scream of utter horror was said to still be heard on quiet nights. Crowley coughed, choking up globs of goo, as Gabriel was too rooted to the floor in disgust to clean himself. Michael fortunately had a spare miracle on hand. 

“Well you did say “no vomit”,” said Michael dryly. 

“I hate him,” squeaked Gabriel. “I really really do. I don’t know how Aziraphale puts up with him!”

“There, there, now come on, big archangels don’t cry,” said Michael. “Let’s go clothes shopping, that always cheers you up.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Crowley watched them leave, then carefully tried to get out of bed. Nope. Not happening. He was going nowhere. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t yell... he was as much a prisoner as he could be, even without a lock on the door. But his stunt with the cough syrup had helped a little, at least now he felt less as if he was drowning. His head shot up as he heard Sebastian’s voice outside the door. He tried to call his name, but no words came out, just coughing. And that just made his collarbone shoot broken razor blades of pain. Dammit all he wanted was his own bed with Aziraphale to fuss over him, was that too much to ask for?

Well apparently yes, it was. Because he was stuck in this hole with no one to comfort him. Dammit!

Crowley hurled the empty cough syrup bottle across the room, hitting the door with a loud thud. He listened, hoping someone heard and would come investigate, but no one did. Dammit, he just wanted to go home...

Crowley raised an eyebrow as an idea crossed his mind. If he was able to will alcohol out of his system, could he maybe use the same trick to clear his lungs? He’d still be sick, and they would fill back up again, but if he could clear his lungs for even just a few minutes, it would give him his voice back. He could call for help. He closed his eyes, and focused...

~*~*~*~*~*~

“HEY GABRIEL!” Crowley screamed at his least favourite angel as he peered into Crowley’s room. “Let’s play movie trivia, shall we?”

Gabriel began trying to silence him, but Crowley was having none of it. 

“Guess what character I am! I’ll give you a hint – it’s from the Exorcist!” He filled his lungs and bellowed as loudly as any demon could; “MERRIN!”

“Oh dear Heaven,” said Gabriel in a small voice, as Crowley beautifully recreated every wail, scream, blasphemy, and operatic yodel that little Regan MacNiel had to offer. Within moments, angels were coming from all over to find out what was causing the chaos. Leading the pack was the old codger who was in charge of the ward.

“Who is in that room?” he demanded. “No one is supposed to be in there!”

Not waiting for an answer, he looked into the room, and stared for a long moment. He then looked to Gabriel.

“That’s a demon,” he stated. “Why is there a demon in my ward?”

“BECAUSE HE RAN ME OVER WITH HIS CAR WHILE I WAS WALKING DOWN THE SIDEWALK!” Crowley yelled.

“Well that’s not nice,” said the old man to Gabriel. “Even a demon has a right to walk down the sidewalk.”

Gabriel was dying by degrees, running his hand over his face. “It was an accident.”

The old man suddenly had an epiphany. “Is that Aziraphale’s demon?”

“YES!” roared Crowley. “You can take me to the vet and check my microchip, even! Gabriel is kidnapping demons, replacing their chips, and selling them to other angels!”

“Well that’s not nice!” chastised the old man. 

“John,” said Gabriel wearily, “I am not kidnapping demons, I am certainly not selling them as pets, and they don’t have microchips, although that is something we should look into.”

The crowd parted, and a figure rushed into the room, heading straight for Crowley. Aziraphale almost pounced on him, but at the last moment realized his husband was badly injured.

“Who hurt you?!” demanded Aziraphale.

“The Holy Cockwomble himself, Gabriel,” said Crowley. “Hit me with his bloody car while I was on the sidewalk!”

Aziraphale turned to Gabriel. “YOU TRIED TO RUN DOWN MY HUSBAND?!”

“NO!” shouted Gabriel in return. “It was a complete accident, I didn’t even see him!”

Aziraphale glowered at him, then turned back to Crowley. “Oh my poor darling, look at you! Oh... let’s take you home. I’ve been so worried...”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Crowley was thrilled to be home in his own bed, with his angel at his side, and his clavicle properly slung. His pelvis was not too badly damaged, so bed rest was recommended. 

“You’ll be fine,” Sebastian assured him. 

“Why was he not getting better in the ward?” asked Aziraphale.

“Because the ward is not for healing. It is for waiting,” said Sebastian. “The souls in that ward are fighting their battle on Earth.” He smiled at Crowley. “Now are we going to be a good little serpent and do as we are told?”

Crowley gave a half-hearted hiss. Aziraphale reached out to take his hand.

“I was so worried. I thought I would lose my mind with worry.”

Crowley still couldn’t say much, but it was clear he was very glad to be home with his angel. He kissed Aziraphale, then snuggled close as he drifted into sleep, finally able to rest and heal.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“He’s still bed ridden, so if he needs anything, you will have to get it for him,” said Aziraphale as he bustled about, getting ready to leave for the evening. “He’s still on some rather heavy pain medication, so he may seem a little...ah... spontaneous. He loves movies, and he just got five new ones in the mail, so you can watch those with him. If you get in over your head, don’t worry, Ruh will be on hand to supervise. It was so nice of you to agree to mind Crowley, I just need to get out of this house for a few hours.”

“Yes,” said Gabriel. “Well..as Lady Divina says, patience and compassion are important aspects to any angel’s nature.”

“Indeed,” said Aziraphale, smiling. “He shouldn’t be any trouble at all, but if he gets too stressed, I’m only a phone call away.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” said Gabriel. “But...wouldn’t you rather take him with you...?”

“Gabriel, honestly, who takes a demon with a cracked pelvis to a performance of Handel’s Messiah?”

Aziraphale left, and Gabriel grumbled and grouched his way to the bedroom to look in on his ward. The good news was he was not scrubbing toilets in hell. The bad news was the Lady Divina had him baby-sitting the damn snake to teach him patience and compassion. Gabriel opened the door a crack, and found Crowley staring straight back at him.

“And how are we feeling?” Gabriel asked, smiling.

Crowley growled like an angry hellhound. Gabriel tried to remain upbeat.

“Now now, let’s try to have fun. I hear somebody likes David Tennant as Dr. Who...”

Gabriel was yanked out of the way of a rush of green vomit, and found himself looking at Ruh. 

“Crowley hates David Tennant, he thinks he’s a wanker,” said Ruh. “Who told you he liked Tennant?”

“Sebastian,” said Gabriel.

“Uh huh. Sebastian is also a bit of a wanker. My suggestion is anything with Milla Jovovich. He likes her. Mostly he likes her kicking ass in Resident Evil.”

“Really? You’re going to make me watch some garbage cinema based on, I believe, a game?”

“Never insult She Who Is Milla. Now be a good little archangel and go entertain Aziraphale’s precious darling. I’ll be around, so scream if you need me.”

Gabriel grumbled and muttered, then turned to face the door. “I’m coming in. Please do not do anything disgusting.”

He cautiously opened the door. The vomit was miraculously gone. However Crowley was still fixed on him like a starving dog looking at a steak. Gabriel was sure he could hear some child singing the theme to the Amityville Horror in the distance. Oh good Heavens he did NOT want to watch anything with zombies in it! 

“Well what would you like to do?” asked Gabriel, forcing himself to remember that the alternative to demon-sitting was poo-scrubbing as he seated himself in a chair beside the bed.

They were apparently going to watch Goldeneye with Pierce Brosnan. Oh good grief WHY did mortals like to do things sure to impact their mortality?!

“That does not look safe,” said Gabriel.

Crowley sighed heavily and hoarsely whispered; “Why are you here?”

“Well the Lady Divina felt very strongly that I could use a few lessons in compassion, so...here I am. Babysitting you. While your husband is out watching Handel’s Messiah.”

Crowley made a face. “Never could get a grip on Handel.”

Gabriel winced as slowly he understood the pun. Crowley was merciless.

“Wanted to be a Gregorian monk once but never got the chants.”

“I loathe you. I honestly do. I’ve never said that to another being, but...”

“But we have a loathe-hate relationship.”

“Could you please stop with the puns?”

“And start with what?”

“Nothing. Let us start with nothing. We can simply...”

“I remember once when I was fighting in the crusades, one of my own knights accidentally knocked me into a pit. Why I was terribly upset with the hole thing.”

“Crowley!”

“Broke my leg. He offered to let me sit on his shoulders while he carried me back to camp. Of course I refused, there was just no way I could be seen out on a knight like that...”

“Aziraphale deserves a medal for putting up with you.”

Crowley just smiled, then pulled out his phone, sending a quick text message. ‘ _Gabe says you deserve a medal for putting up with me._ ’

There was a brief pause, then; ‘ _I hope there never comes a day that I am merely putting up with you._ ’

Crowley’s smile became a grin. ‘ _So what are you wearing?_ ’

Gabriel took the phone away from Crowley. “Really? You are really going to engage in THAT sort of behaviour with me right... AHHH!”

Crowley roared in his face, almost forcing him out of his chair. Gabriel stood up. “THAT IS IT! I HAVE HAD IT WITH...”

Sebastian entered the room right then. “Crowley, is Gabriel failing his patience test?”

Crowley glared at Gabriel, grabbed back his phone and continued texting his angel, at least until the performance began. Sebastian examined his patient, while Gabriel waited for Crowley to react viciously to the seraph. Crowley did not. For one, Crowley had no reason to, and for another...Crowley was by no means stupid enough to screw with a seraph. Not even one that sorta liked him.

“Bet you’re sick of all this bed rest,” said Sebastian, checking Crowley’s bruises. He shook his head, then looked up at Gabriel, glaring. 

“Exactly how fast were you going while not looking at the road?”

“Fast enough,” muttered Crowley. “Then he used a miracle on me. THEN HE KIDNAPPED ME AND KEPT ME AS A PET FOR THREE WEEKS.”

“I was not keeping you as a pet,” growled Gabriel.

“He was going to sell me to a Japanese woman who was going to turn me into a bonsai tree.”

“Well that’s not nice,” said Sebastian, doing a fair imitation of Old John the Ward Keeper.

“Neither was telling me that he likes David Tennant,” growled Gabriel.

Sebastian just grinned, then asked Crowley; “How’s the pain?”

“Not too bad,” said Crowley. 

“Uh huh. For a demon you really stink at lying.”

“All right, fine, I’m in pain, I’m not comfortable at all, but we need to talk about the pain killers. The last ones you gave me had me believing I was an inch worm and singing the theme to the Wombles.”

“Aaawww... Aziraphale said it was adorable.”

“Aziraphale is very slightly biased.”

“Okay, fine, I have all new pain killers, they’ll let you turn into any kind of Pokemon you like.”

“I don’t like any of them.”

“Then you should be just fine. C’mon. If you don’t rest you won’t heal. You need to be in top form for the next time Gabriel hits you with his car.”

Crowley let Sebastian inject him, and as Gabriel watched, the serpent of the garden became something closer to an overcooked noodle. Sebastian helped him to lay back against his pillow, then looked to Gabriel as he rose to his looming eight feet. 

“Just call if you need me,” said Sebastian.

“How much trouble can he be unconscious?”

“Pain killers can have some very odd effects, even on immortal beings like angels and demons. Crowley has already demonstrated that his corporeal manifestation has unintended reactions. Such as thinking he’s an inch worm and singing the theme to the Wombles. Keep an eye on him.”

Sebastian left. Gabriel stared sourly at the baked lump in the bed. How could such a meager little demon be so much trouble? Well nothing for it but to find some way to entertain himself. TV and movies were not really his thing, but neither were books. Hmmm....did they have a copy of The Sound of Music? Apparently...no. What was this movie? Gabriel sighed loudly as he saw the label in Aziraphale’s old world script; PORNOGRAPHY.

“All right, let’s see what you really are,” he said, and slipped the DVD into the player. 

Well it wasn’t pornography. It was Crowley. Lots and lots and LOTS of Crowley, and all recorded by Aziraphale. Crowley sleeping, Crowley dancing, Crowley in his shorts hunting for the TV remote before remembering he was a demon and just miracling the thing into his hand...good grief what exactly did these two see in each other, other than their single shared brain cell? What was this? Some little mortal girl chasing Crowley around with a toad and Aziraphale laughing so hard he was wheezing. Utterly ridiculous. They should...

Crowley sat bolt upright in bed and screamed. It was a scream of pure terror, like that of someone who knew the things in their nightmares already existed. The next scream was agony, as injures were jostled by movement, and Crowley had no way at that moment to understand how to mend his situation. He hurt, he was scared, and the drugs had him locked into a perpetual dream state. 

Gabriel had no idea what to do. He probably should have called Sebastian, but the whole reason he was even there in the first place was to learn compassion. So... maybe try to comfort him? How did this work? Gabriel sat on the bed and clumsily put his arms around Crowley.

“There, there, you sad little Heavenly reject, Our Father’s precious wee disappointment...”

“Angel...?”

“He’s out listening to music that’s too good for you, you’ll have to deal with me.”

Crowley went silent, and hung his head. He was silent for a long moment, then giggled. Gabriel had a feeling he was not going to like what he was about to hear.

“He and I once had sex in the Heaven and Hell elevator.”

Yup, he was right. Gabriel let his head fall back and winced. “Why did you tell me that?”

“It’s a bloody accomplishment, do you have any idea how hard it was for him to...”

“I really don’t want to know this.”

“We had to jam the brakes on or else we would have...”

“CROWLEY!”

“He’s got amazing...”

“JUST STOP!”

Crowley raised his head and smiled at Gabriel in a drugged-out loopy way that made the archangel’s skin crawl. 

“He loves me. I’m a bloody fallen angel with nothing to offer and he loves me. He’s the only real gift I was ever given. I don’t know why you can’t see how beautiful he is. You’re an angel. You’re supposed to see beauty in everything. I’m supposed to be the one deprived of love and beauty. But I see it and you don’t. That makes you the saddest damn excuse for an angel I ever met.”

“I’d like to punch you.”

“I’d like that too, I’d love to see where the Lady Divina stations you. I’d also like to know why you appear to be watching our home movies.”

“I was bored.”

Slowly it permeated Crowley’s brain that Gabriel was holding him. Crowley stared at him, golden eyes filled with hate. “You can release me any time...”

“Look I’m doing my best here to show compassion, why must you be so ungrateful?”

“You’re touching me.”

“You used to like me touching you.”

Crowley bit him. Ruh walked in just in time to see the Archangel Gabriel trying to pry a demon off his face. The cherub sighed. 

“Which one of you needs a time out?”

Gabriel managed to get Crowley’s fangs out of his face. “He bit me!”

“He touched me first!”

“So the answer would be ‘both of you’. All right. No touching and no biting. Gabriel are you ready to admit defeat about this whole compassion thing?”

“Never!”

“All righty then, you kids have fun, scream if you need me.”

“Tell this pervert to get out of my bed first!” yelled Crowley.

“Pervert!” said Gabriel indignantly.

Ruh sighed. “Gabriel, I believe Crowley has asked you to respect his wishes not to be touched, and to not seat yourself on his bed.”

Gabriel moved. The two sat glaring at each other. Then Crowley lost his battle against the drugs once more and sank back against the pillows, falling into a deep sleep. Gabriel sighed and turned off the DVD. Dammit this shouldn’t be so hard. Why was this so difficult...?

He didn’t want to think about why he was having a difficult time with this challenge. He looked at Crowley, or rather, as he was once known, Arariel. Beautiful, beautiful Arariel. The only angel in Heaven with black wings. How lovely he had been...

Slowly it occurred to Gabriel that his face was swelling up and turning purple. Oh good grief, why did the damn snake have to bite him?

The room filled with a soft blue light. Gabriel hopped to his feet and stood before Divina. As usual she seemed oddly distracted, but that was how all the supreme archangels were. 

“Dear Gabriel, are you not learning compassion?”

He sagged. “I am trying,” he said with quiet honesty. “I just don’t have a great deal of compassion for a demon.”

“How about a little angel with pretty black wings, who fell because he loved you? Or is it not that you have no compassion for him, but that you have no forgiveness for yourself?”

Gabriel didn’t even try to lie to Divina. There was no point. She would know. 

“At the time I believed the sacrifice of one angel to be worth the gain.”

“And what do you believe now?”

There was a long silence. “And now I believe I shall return to my apartments and humbly accept any punishment you deem fit.”

Gabriel departed. Divina sighed quietly, then looked to the bed as she sensed Crowley open his eyes and gaze at her. She smiled.

“And what would you like, little snake?” Her voice was loving.

Crowley really didn’t want to ask for anything of this being, but at the same time...

“Gabriel...has a painting...”

She nodded. “I understand. Rest now.”

He nodded, and settled under the covers. “Thank you.”

She departed just as Sebastian entered the room. “Well I’m your sitter now so you better be good.”

“Oooh, big mean seraph, come to sit on the little crippled demon.”

Sebastian seated himself beside the bed, and smiled. “Why are you waking up, you should be halfway to Never-never Land.”

“Just...want my angel.”

Roughly 20 cherubs in the rafters sighed.

“You get used to them,” said Crowley.

“Uh huh.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

When Aziraphale arrived home, the place was quiet. Crowley was asleep, and Sebastian was dozing in a chair. Gabriel was nowhere to be seen, which didn’t surprise him terribly; he didn’t think Gabriel would have much patience for Crowley. God Above knew Crowley would have very little for Gabriel.

He entered their bedroom, casting glances to the rafters, and the closet, seeing no one. He then carefully seated himself on the bed, leaning down to softly kiss Crowley’s brow. 

“How was the performance?” Crowley asked drowsily.

“Utterly breathtaking. I wish you had been there.”

“No I like the silent monks doing the Hallelujah Chorus better. Got you a present.”

“Now how did you do that?”

“Sebastian helped.”

Crowley indicated an object on the far side of the room. Aziraphale looked to see something very large draped in cloth leaning against the wall. It was rectangular, and very tall. Curious, he walked to it, and drew off the white sheet draping it. What he saw was nothing less than a Heavenly portrait of a young angel with bright golden eyes, red hair, and, most surprisingly, black wings. They were edged in gold and silver, and within their folds were reflected the seas of the Moon.

“He’s so beautiful,” said Aziraphale.

“His name was Arariel,” said Crowley.

“Well he’s utterly lovely, but...why...?” 

Aziraphale studied the painting closely; the golden eyes, red hair, mischievous smile...and drew a loud gasp. He turned to look at Crowley, eyes enormous.

“Crowley, is this...?”

“Don’t worry, angel, it’s a sad story but it has a very happy ending.” Crowley yawned. “I’ll tell you in the morning.”

Crowley fell asleep once more. Aziraphale looked from him and back to the painting. 

“Well,” he said quietly, “I see nothing has changed. You’re still beautiful.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

“How is this teaching me compassion, again?” asked Gabriel as he stood in a French maid’s outfit, attempting to tidy the accounting office. Zombies milled around, being more unhelpful than usual.

“It’s not,” said Beelzebub, “it’s to teach you empathy for the next moron who runs over a demon then tries to hide him.”

“Why such a short skirt?”

Beelzebub grinned. Gabriel was horrified.

“Oh you are just nasty.”

“Gabe, you’re in Hell. Political correctness is for your side of the office building.”

Gabriel grumbled, then fished his phone out of the garter around his thigh as it began to ring. Who was calling him...? Aziraphale? What did that lump want? He accepted the call.

“Hello?”

Aziraphale screamed so loudly that the zombies panicked and tried to flee, succeeding only in crashing into each other and causing chaos.

“IF YOU EVER COME NEAR MY HUSBAND AGAIN AFTER WHAT YOU DID TO HIM YOU SON OF A BITCH...”

Gabriel ended the call. No need to listen to the end of that statement. Well it seemed Crowley had told dear little Aziraphale the tale of how he fell. And with Ruh and his buddies watching the pair daily...yeah his life was gonna be crap for a while yet. He glanced at Beelzebub, and noticed the demon happened to be smiling at him. 

“So what did you do to ol’ Crawley?”

Gabriel repeated the story as he tidied the office. 

“Wow. I’m impressed. That was a real nice piece of backstabbing. Sure you don’t want to come down here and work for me?”

“Quite sure. There is definitely one thing I have learned from all of this – I’d rather be an asshole in Heaven than a cleaning lady in Hell.”


End file.
